“I guess.” Clemt shrugged. “Those pancakes gonna be ready soon?”
Dropping thick slices of bacon on the griddle, Tamsyn chuckled. “You’re not too subtle about your hints. The first stack will be coming up in a minute.”
* * *
Tamsyn was relieved when life settled down a bit. She and the three remaining ranch hands made progress on the never ending list of work to be done around the place and even if she’d had to reschedule the cattle drive a few weeks while she searched for a fourth person, she felt calm about it. She posted the help wanted ad and moved on, although she was sorry for Drake and his absence left a mark on the whole team.
Four days later she got an unexpected ping from her com and found an emergency notice from the Ranch Council, proposing a meeting in an hour. Curious what could be so serious as to require the group to meet off schedule, she told Rasty she’d be unavailable at one o’clock, fortified herself with a mug of synthcaff and settled into her office chair at the appointed time.
A few holos flickered into view but no Merdith, who Tamsyn hadn’t heard back from, and the government official Hollis didn’t appear. Perry appeared to be in charge of the meeting. He glanced at the other holos and frowned. “Guess this is all we got coming today.”
“It was short notice,” Tamsyn said. “Aren’t we going to wait for Hollis?”
Perry snorted. “Hells no. We’re having this chat without him. Too much government control going on right now. All right, anyone heard from any of our missing members?”
One rancher volunteered she’d spoken with Samuels the day before and he was going to be family wedding. There was no accounting for any of the others and Perry’s expression became grimmer. He leaned into the holo cam. “How many of you have this new flu at your place?”
Tamsyn reluctantly raised one hand, not sure where this was going. To her surprise, more than half of the others also responded affirmatively. She’d thought this was a much more limited outbreak but the people raising their hands were scattered all over the western and northern ranges and some of them lived on extremely isolated ranches.
“How many dead?” Perry asked, pointing at Tamsyn. “You can start the tally.”
“Well, I don’t know exactly,” she said. “One of my hands came down with it and a couple of local people but the government flew them all out. I haven’t been able to get any updates or status, not even from the local doctor.”
Tamsyn saw nods around the ‘table’ and heard murmurs of agreement.
“So you don’t know what happens when they die, do you?” Perry’s tone was challenging. “That’s how the damn government wants it. Trying to prevent a full scale panic. Wake up, people, we’re in big trouble here.”
Faber, a grizzled elder rancher whose sons actually ran the spread now, said, “My kids have been watching the holos on social media when they can. They told me?—”
There was a harsh buzzing sound and the broadcast cut off, the holos winking out in a shower of sparks. Tamsyn blinked and hit the refresh button but nothing happened. She made another attempt and then picked up her handheld and tried to com Perry but the call wouldn’t go through. She sat and waited for five or ten minutes, mulling over the whole strange conversation. On a whim she searched on her handheld for holos concerning the flu but all she could find were official government sites with messages meant to be calming and reminding people to bring themselves or anyone with flu symptoms to the nearest medical facility as soon as possible. She found one holo that jerked and dissolved and reconstituted, as if made under adverse conditions. Whoever had created it was obviously running, breathing hard and she heard harsh screams and growls in the background. “They’re chasing me,” the unseen runner’s voice said. “They’re fast, faster than I expected?—”
And the holo cut off much as the council meeting had ended, leaving her staring at nothing but a black square.
“Well obviously a poorly made fake,” she said, closing her handheld. “Time to get real work done.”
But as she headed for the door, eager to tackle her next item on the to do list, she couldn’t shake the lingering unease.
That evening they sat down to dinner together as usual, the meal cooked today by Piers, but Clemt’s chair was empty.
“Where’s Clemt?” she asked Rasty.
He finished pushing a biscuit through the thick gravy, took a bite, chewed with a blissful expression and said, “Haven’t seen him since he rode out this morning on a zip cart to recharge the bad connectors on the far forty fencing. Shoulda been back in the late afternoon but I figured he was taking it a bit easy. Sometimes he ain’t the most…devoted worker when no one’s there to supervise.” He nudged a snickering Piers in the ribs. “He in the bunkhouse?”
“Nah, haven’t seen him. The all terrain zip cart is still gone too.”
Tamsyn had heard enough. “If he isn’t home by the time we finish dinner, we’re going to search for him. He could have had an accident out there all by himself.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Rasty loaded his plate with more of the pot roast and passed her the potatoes.
She hated to ask but the question was burning inside her. “Was he feeling okay? Did he mention anything about being sick?”
To her relief the foreman shook his head in a quick negative but she could tell Piers was hiding something. She fixed him with her ‘I’m the boss’ stare. “What do you know?”
The ranch hand was clearly embarrassed, red staining his cheeks. “He—he did mention the uh love bites that teacher gave him on their date were bothering him a bit. Took some EZ pain relief tabs before he rode out. I didn’t think much of it.”
“His date was four days ago, son,” Rasty said in disbelief.
“All I know is he was favoring his shoulder where she bit him.”
